


Keepin' It Real

by SeeBeeStrellacott



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Office Sex, Real Life, Relationship Issues, True Love, funny sex, realistic sex and smut, sometimes it sounds better in your head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeBeeStrellacott/pseuds/SeeBeeStrellacott
Summary: This is a collection of realistic sex stories.  Some address the problems that couples face, others highlight what sex is really like in a relationship.  It's not always trumpets and fireworks - sometimes it's funny, stressful, awkward, boring, or painful.  The goal of this series is to highlight the differences between fake sex (in smut, erotica, and porn) and real sex, and most importantly to show that ALL sex is normal.If you have suggestions or prompts you would like to see addressed, you can leave it in the comments or you can find me on Tumblr @seebee239 or Discord @seebs239.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 53
Kudos: 90





	1. The Scare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @slivka and foreverhalffull for the prompt - Robin gets an STI.
> 
> This is the first of 3 STI stories. STIs are a problem that the majority of people will face at least once in their lives. It's time to end the stigma surrounding them, that it's only "dirty" or "bad" people that get STIs. All types of people get them, even when they're in a loving relationship. It's important to talk to your partners about their history and yours.

It had been about a week since Cormoran first asked Robin up to his flat. Once they had finally admitted their feelings to each other – after a little tongue loosening via alcohol, though not enough to feel awkward about – they had been almost inseparable. Strike had even rearranged the rota so they could have the same nights off. It had started slowly and innocently, both hesitant about finally crossing that un-crossable and irreversible line. They had been to dinner, had drinks in the office, watched movies at Robin’s flat – though there had been more snogging than movie watching – but neither had made a move to take things further. Until finally, after drinks at the Tottenham one Friday after work, Robin was dithering, not wanting to go home. Cormoran had read the signs and asked her back to his flat. Robin remembered how his voice had wavered and his eyes were anxious but full of desire. He had looked so endearing, and cuddly, and sexy all at once. The heat and love in his eyes – along with the fire burning between her legs – had made it easy to say yes.

And so they had spent the night together, making love again when they awoke, and again that night, this time at Robin’s flat. They had spent almost every night together since. 

Cormoran had slept at her flat last night. For the first time in a long time, since that period after uni she preferred not to think about, the sex had been painful. At first, Robin wondered if maybe it was a simple case of overuse. She had smeared some lube on herself and carried on, but was too uncomfortable to enjoy herself. It didn’t help that Cormoran seemed to notice she wasn’t enjoying herself, which inconveniently made proceedings last even longer. When he had asked her if everything was okay and that maybe they should stop, she insisted it was just chafing and suggested another position.

But a new position hadn’t helped, and Robin now suspected it had nothing to do with chafing. Sat on the toilet, she was staring down at the wad of tissue in her hand where there was a large clump of foamy white discharge. Her fluids had definitely never looked like that before. They had also never _smelled_ like that before. And she was fairly certain the unpleasant itchy burning sensation she currently felt was not normal. 

_It’s probably just a yeast infection_ , she told herself. _Lots of women get them._

But Robin couldn’t stop thinking about Cormoran’s sexual history, and the fact that they hadn’t used condoms because she had an IUD…

And she hated herself for letting her mind go there.

_It’s just a yeast infection. I’ll go down to the chemist and get something for it._

_***_

An hour later, Robin picked up her mobile and saw Cormoran’s name on the screen.

“H-Hi,” she stammered.

Her tone caught him off guard. “Are you okay?” he asked.

The tenderness and concern in his voice threatened to breakdown the flimsy wall currently holding back her tears. She was sat on the toilet again, wiping away the cream she had bought, which had only intensified the itching and burning sensation. 

“Yeah… no,” she said quietly. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Okay, I’ve just finished my surveillance, I’m on my way now,” Cormoran said, whishing he had taken a cab instead of the tube.

***

He found her lying on her bed, propped up on her elbows and reading a book. She didn’t look ill or injured, but that didn’t comfort him. He approached her cautiously, in case he was the cause of her distress. Cormoran sat on the bed next to her and rubbed a hand over her back. Robin rolled to her side, half lying on his leg and looked up at him with scared, pleading eyes. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her temple. When he straightened, he noticed there was moisture gathering in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he grasped her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

“I think I have a yeast infection or something.”

“Oh.” Cormoran’s face fell in a way that said that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear and didn’t want Robin to think he was relieved that that was all; by her tone earlier, he had definitely been expecting worse.

“Do you have any medicine, or…anything for it?” he asked.

“I got some, but I couldn’t stand it, it was too uncomfortable. I think I’m going to have to go to the doctor. I’ve made an appointment for tomorrow.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. He looked down at her, his lower lip jutting out slightly and a crease forming between his eyebrows. Robin was looking at him anxiously and he could tell she wanted to say something, something she was having a difficult time voicing. The crease between his eyes deepened.

“Cormoran,” Robin started, looking down at their entwined fingers, “I have to ask… Not that I think… But I just want to make sure… I mean…” She stopped and took a deep breath, and looked up at him with those watery, pleading eyes.

Cormoran swallowed heavily as it dawned on him what she was trying to ask. Suddenly a possibility he hadn’t considered occurred to him. He hadn’t had sex in nearly two years, surely there was no way? Surely he would know if he had anything, wouldn’t he? He had gotten a blood test after his last encounter, and he had used a condom, but a blood test didn’t cover all types of infection. And it probably didn’t cover infections that would resemble a yeast infection.

“It’s just… I was doing some research earlier, and… Although it’s not as common for men, it is possible for people to have some infections, like one called Trichomonas, and not know they have it. Is there any way…?”

Cormoran swallowed with difficulty again and squeezed Robin’s hand as he considered what she was asking. When his blood tests had come back clear, he had assumed that was it. He hadn’t considered the possibility that he had some other infection, especially since everything seemed normal. But if what Robin was saying was true, and some people didn’t get symptoms… was it possible that he had had an infection for two years and not know it? 

Robin watched as one emotion after another crossed his face. When his mouth dropped into a frown and his eyebrows squished together with worry, the dam holding back her tears finally broke. Cormoran shifted his position to lie beside her. Robin rolled over and tucked her head into his chest. He held her tenderly as she cried, her tears soaking through his shirt. He gently rubbed a hand up and down her back until her tears quieted, and then he told her about his previous encounter and subsequent blood test. Robin was a little comforted that he had used a condom, but it didn’t totally ease her fears.

“What time is your appointment? I’ll come with you.”

Robin was touched, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted him there or not. “No, Cormoran, you don’t have to.”

“I’m coming with you,” he interjected. His voice broke as he continued, “If there’s any chance this was my fault… I want to be with you. I don’t want you to be alone.”

“It’s probably just a yeast infection,” Robin said, trying to reassure him as much as herself.

“I’ll get tested too,” Cormoran said, his voice stronger, full of conviction and desperate for action.

“Let’s just see what the doctor says first. It’s probably unnecessary.” 

Robin felt him nod. “I’m so sorry, Robin. God, if I could take it from you, I would.”

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, but he didn’t believe her.

***

Cormoran sat in the waiting room, fidgeting restlessly. He had tried reading a few of the magazines, but they didn’t hold his focus. He checked his shopping list, played a game on his phone, checked recent news. None of it could distract him from what Robin was going through in the exam room. The longer she was in there, the more his mind wandered, inventing worse and worse scenarios. When she finally came back out to the waiting room, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped for the briefest moment, until she approached him with the smallest smile. 

He hurried to stand and wrapped an arm around her waist, placing a kiss on her temple. 

“Okay?” he asked, wondering if she would have results back already. Perhaps that’s what had taken so long.

“I’ll tell you outside, let’s get out of here.” Cormoran was relieved that she didn’t sound upset. 

Outside, he suggested they stop into a pub for a drink, and Robin agreed. When they had sat down at a table with their drinks, Cormoran reached for her hand and looked at her anxiously.

“Well? Is everything…?”

Robin smiled again, and Cormoran’s heart both fluttered and calmed all at once. 

“She said it’s bacterial vaginosis. It’s not really an STI, but it’s often classified as one. Apparently it’s common when changing partners or getting a new partner.” Robin dropped her voice to avoid being overheard. “She said the introduction of new semen can change the pH of the vagina, and normal bacteria just kind of takes over and causes an infection.”

“So I didn’t…”

Robin smiled sweetly and squeezed his hand. “No, you didn’t. I asked her about other infections, but she said there’s really no reason for you to get tested for anything.”

“So we’re all good?”

“We’re all good.”

Cormoran heaved a sigh and pulled her in for a kiss. 

“So what do you have to do about it?”

“She gave me some antibiotics. Should be better in a few days.”

“That’s such a relief. God, when I thought I might have… I never would have forgiven myself.” He looked into her eyes, searching for the forgiveness he didn’t feel he deserved, but which she bestowed so readily. He had never regretted any of his one-night stands more strongly than when he thought it might have affected Robin.

“Well, it’s all good, so there’s nothing to worry about.” 

Robin leaned in and kissed him soundly. Cormoran opened to her more easily than he normally did in public, trying to express with his lips and tongue what he wasn’t yet ready to put into words.

“Your flat or mine tonight?” he asked after several minutes.

“We can’t do anything until the infection clears up.”

“I know, but I still want to be with you tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after that. And the night after that.” He punctuated each statement with a kiss to her neck, or cheek, or forehead.

Robin giggled. “In that case, mine. It’s warmer and my pillows are fluffier.”

Cormoran smiled and pulled her into his side, kissing her hair.


	2. This isn't working

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Strike put in a little overtime in the office.
> 
> Thank you to @slivka and @cavanaughpark on the Denmark Street Discord server for the suggestions of awkward/uncomfortable office sex, distracting noises, and laughing when it's just not working.

Strike leaned back and stretched. He and Robin had spent the day in the office together, updating invoices, arranging the rota, and trying to work out how they could give the other employees a small bonus for Christmas. His joints were stiff from sitting so long and his knee popped pleasurably as he stretched his leg. 

Robin was wearing the snug-fitting cream sweater he liked so much. He had been distracted all day as a result, and he now had another kind of stiffness aching in his trousers from thinking about pushing her pencil skirt up over her hips. Robin looked up to find him gazing at her with _that look_ , the one that caused butterflies to take flight in her stomach and a heat to spread through her chest.

“I think it’s about time for a break, what do you reckon?” he asked.

Robin dropped her pen and stretched, her sweater riding up to reveal a sliver of her stomach. She stretched her arms out behind her, pushing out her chest. Strike raised an eyebrow at her and shifted in his seat. _She knows exactly what she’s doing_ , he thought.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ve been looking at this desk, and I think it might be about the right height.” He gave her a cheeky grin.

Robin rose from her chair and came around the desk to him. Strike extended his arms and pulled her in close, her chest perfectly level with his face. His fingers dipped into the back of her waistband, grazing the top of her arse.

“Mmm,” she purred, “I thought we agreed not in the office.”

“Yeah, but it’s been all I can think about ever since we made that rule. Pat’s long gone, the others are either on surveillance or have the day off. No reason for anyone to come in.”

He pulled her down into his lap, punctuating his statements with kisses to her neck as his hands snaked under her sweater.

“I’ll go lock the door,” Robin murmured and hurried away. 

Strike sat back in his chair, feeling a bit smug as he ran a hand along his length. When Robin came back in, he sprang from his chair with surprising speed and caught her round the waist.

“C’mere,” and he pulled her in for a deep, searing kiss. 

Robin leaned back into the desk, unbuckling his belt and trousers. Strike groped at her skirt, pushing it up her thighs as he had been fantasizing about doing all day. Robin shimmied out of her knickers as Strike quickly dropped his trousers and boxers, freeing his straining erection. 

Robin took him in hand, brushing her thumb over the bead of moisture collecting on the tip. Strike sucked in a breath when he reached between her legs and found her already wet for him. Robin turned around and leaned over the desk, sticking her arse out. She was slightly too tall so Strike tried to stand on his toes, which was difficult with his rigid metal ankle.

“Can you come down a little?”

Robin bent her knees and tried to sink down a bit. Strike entered her at an awkward angle and slipped out again as soon as he tried to thrust forward. He grunted in frustration. 

Robin looked back over her shoulder. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

Strike shook his head, looking around for an alternative.

“What about the sofa?” Robin asked, standing up. 

Trousers around his ankles, Strike shuffled awkwardly to the outer office as Robin pulled him forward. She leaned over the arm of the sofa, pushing her arse up into the air again. Strike made an appreciative noise at the sight of her delectable flesh. He grabbed a handful of arse and squeezed, using his other hand to rub the head of his cock against her silken lips. 

The sofa was quite a bit lower than the desk and he had to crouch to thrust into her. Robin moaned in satisfaction as he filled her. He began to move, his thighs already screaming from the effort. Robin pushed back into him, needing him to go deeper. Strike held onto her hips and thrust into her harder. After a moment he pulled out and stepped back, leaving Robin feeling bereft. 

He panted, “Sorry, this isn’t working either. It’s killing my knee.”

He flopped onto the sofa to give his legs a break. Robin climbed onto his lap to a chorus of rude noises from the flatulent sofa. She settled into his lap and took his mouth, showing him the full force of her desire. Strike shifted down into the sofa so that he could enter her, eliciting a rather loud and authentic noise from the creaking leather. Both detectives paused and giggled.

“That was the sofa, I promise,” Strike chuckled.

Robin snorted and tried to get back into the moment by kissing him, her tongue dipping into his mouth. Strike reached between them to position himself against her and Robin sank down over him. Throwing her head back, Robin began to ride him. Strike gripped her hips again and thrust up into her. The sofa responded to his movements with another round of farting noises. Robin started giggling again.

“Oh God, don’t laugh,” Strike chuckled with a semi-pained expression as the force of her laughter tried to expel him from her depths.

“Sorry,” Robin muttered, trying to get her giggles under control. 

She resolved to tune out the noises of the leather, focusing on the taste of his lips and his thumb rubbing against her clit. Robin ground against him, finding a rhythm. She had all but forgotten about the sofa until Strike moved with her, releasing another loud farting sound. They both snorted with laughter once more.

“This fucking sofa, I swear I’m chucking it out and getting a new one after this,” Strike laughed.

Robin laughed, “I give up. This just isn’t going to work is it?”

“No, I guess shagging in the office was a bad idea after all.”

Robin leaned forward to nibble on his ear. Strike’s hands dropped to cup her arse. Suddenly, Robin sat up.

“The chair,” she said. “In the inner office.”

She climbed back off of him and pulled him up. He shuffled forward once more, trousers still around his ankles.

He stood looking at the soft armchair in the corner, trying to work out the logistics.

“How did you want to-“

“Sit,” Robin commanded, giving him a little push to his shoulder.

“OK, but how is this going t-“

Robin turned around and backed onto his lap, earning an approving groan from him. Strike’s hands cupped her breasts as she sank back over him. Using the arm rests for support, Robin began to move up and down over his length. Her legs were quickly beginning to tire, but he was hitting just the right spot, making her forget her burning thighs. 

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned when he reached around to rub her clit.

Her legs were on fire now, and her movements stilled. “My legs are killing me,” she panted.

“Here,” Strike reached under her and lifted her slightly, spreading her legs to dangle over the armrests.

Strike held her steady as he took over, thrusting up into her. He scooted forward slightly, giving himself better leverage with his feet on the floor. He moved faster, pounding into her. Robin reached down and rubbed her clit, stars exploding behind her eyes as she cried out. Strike bit his lip, concentrating on giving her what she needed. When her cries changed to satisfied moans, he released the damn on his own orgasm, stilling as he spilled into her. Robin slumped forward, catching her breath and trying to figure out how she was going to stand on her wobbly legs.

“Now we’re going to have to get rid of this chair too,” Strike murmured. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to get hard every time I look at it,” he chuckled.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh,” Robin moaned as she felt his softening cock flop out of her along with a glop of his semen. “This is going to be really gross.”

She carefully leaned forward and stood on shaking legs as more juices slid down her legs. Strike’s lap was a sticky mess of both their fluids.

“Didn’t think about this part,” he said, grimacing down at his lap. 

“Here, give me your boxers,” Robin said. She had already used her knickers to wipe some of the cum of her legs, but the tiny garment wasn’t much help. 

“You could lick it off,” Strike teased.

“I _could_ , but I’m not going to.” Robin motioned impatiently for his boxers. 

Strike kicked off his shoes and tried to kick his trousers off as well, not wanting to lean forward and spread the mess to his shirt and stomach. Robin helped him pull them off. She used his boxers to finish cleaning herself before wiping up his lap as well. He winced as she was a little too rough with his overly sensitive prick. He gripped her wrist, stilling her hand, and leaning towards her for a kiss.

“I love you, you know,” he murmured against her lips.

“Yeah, I know. Love you too. Now let’s go take a shower.”

Strike nodded in agreement and pulled his trousers back on, thankful he lived only a short flight of stairs away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any suggestions for real sex scenarios, you can leave it for me in the comments or on Discord and Tumblr @seebee239.


	3. In Securities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes your first time together just doesn't go very well, as you try to figure out what each other likes. Robin struggles with insecurity from her lack of experience, and Strike worries about hurting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @SleepyEye and @Slivka for the prompt of heads and teeth awkwardly bumping together, and not being able to come without a vibrator.  
> Also includes my own prompt ideas of working through insecurities, and having a lack-luster, meh, kind of first time.
> 
> And a huge thank you to @Greenie AKA Hidetheteaspoons for beta-ing this chapter. It wouldn't be nearly as good without her suggestions.

It had only been two weeks since Strike had first kissed Robin, and he had taken to carrying a couple of condoms in his wallet with the hope that one evening might finally end with the physical intimacy he craved. It had been a little over two years since he had been with anyone, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his composure. His body had betrayed him a few days previously, when he had walked her home and kissed her goodnight, and she had felt his erection pressing against her hip. Lost in the kiss, Strike had forgotten to angle away from her, unconsciously seeking friction against his groin. Robin had pulled away quickly and gone inside, leaving Strike on the threshold feeling guilty and, if he was honest, a little frustrated. However, he was determined to let Robin take the lead, telling himself he was happy to move as quickly or as slowly as she desired. 

When he had walked her home after their usual Friday evening dinner and drinks, he hadn’t been expecting more than a kiss goodnight. He was elated, of course, when Robin looked up at him and shyly asked if he would like to come in for a drink. As Robin continued up the stairs of her flat to the kitchen, Strike excused himself to the bathroom so that he could arrange his wayward cock into a less obvious position by tucking it up into his belt. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was afraid the obvious and substantial tent in his trousers would send the wrong message. The last thing he wanted was to make Robin feel like he expected anything from her.

He climbed the stairs carefully, breathing deeply and trying to will his body to relax. He found Robin on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine, her feet tucked up under her. Strike tossed his coat over a chair and picked up the glass that she had poured for him.

“Max is at his boyfriend’s for the weekend,” Robin said and then buried her face in her glass.

Strike paused for a fraction of a second as he settled himself on the sofa next to her. There was a slight blush on her cheeks, and she continued to hide behind her wine.

He couldn’t think of anything more clever to say other than, “Oh?”

“Just in case you wanted to stay,” Robin said quietly.

“Would you like me to stay?” he asked, his voice low and husky, sending heat straight to her core. 

Robin nodded, her eyes on the hem of her dress, too shy to look at him. Strike set his glass on the coffee table and reached over to gently pull Robin’s glass from her hands.

“Robin, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

She stared at his hand that had found its way to her knee. “Sorry,” he murmured, withdrawing his hand quickly.

“No,” Robin said in a rush, grabbing his hand and pulling it back to her leg. “Don’t be sorry, I’m just nervous. I don’t have that much experience with all this,” she admitted.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, Robin. We can move as slowly as you want. You just have to tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable, alright? I’m happy to continue like we have been for as long as you want. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I also want it to be right for both of us.”

Robin nodded, her eyes still downcast. Strike cupped her cheek gently, drawing her eyes up to meet his. Slowly, he leaned toward her and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. He was about to pull away when Robin’s lips opened to him, her tongue tentatively seeking his. He eagerly accepted her deepening of the kiss, pulling her closer to him. He was pleasantly surprised when Robin swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. 

Her lips crashed down against his, a little too exuberantly, and their teeth knocked together awkwardly. Strike flinched and pulled back slightly, his lips firmly guiding hers into a better position. Robin stole her tongue back, embarrassed. Her cheek felt warm against his nose, and he opened his eyes, just long enough to register her deepening flush. He slid one hand into her hair and gently probed her mouth with his expert tongue, flicking at the tip of hers to coax her back into the kiss. Robin responded with more composure, sinking into the rhythm he set.

Strike’s other hand roved over her back, down to cup her arse. Her confidence gradually returned, and Robin kissed him uninhibitedly, her tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth. He made no move to advance things, letting her explore his body in her own way. There was no helping his cock, however, which was pressing insistently into her pelvis. He was surprised again when he felt Robin relax against him as her hands clutched at his chest, and she sank into his lap. Her hips undulated slowly, rubbing along his rigid erection. Her nimble fingers moved to slowly unbutton his shirt, revealing an expanse of hairy chest. 

She murmured against his lips, “Should we move to the bedroom?” Her neck and chest flushed to match her cheeks, but she no longer seemed embarrassed as her hand dropped to his belt, her fingers brushing against the erection he had tried, and failed, to hide.

Strike nodded and she climbed off of him, pulling him up off the sofa. She took his hand and led him downstairs to her bedroom. He watched with admiration as she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. His eyes swept over her form, clad in nothing more than black lace. He had never imagined Robin being the type to always wear matching sexy underthings; the skimpy scraps of sheer lace looked anything but practical, especially given the nature and demands of the job. He had a brief moment to wonder if she had anticipated him staying over tonight, before she took a shy step towards him.

“God, Robin. You look incredible,” he breathed.

His arms slid around her at once, trying to touch every inch of exposed skin. He trailed his fingers lightly up her arm and to her shoulder, where he pulled the strap of her bra down her arm. He buried his face in her neck, lavishing kisses over her skin. His lips nipped across her neck, down her shoulder, and back up to her ear.

Robin stepped out of his embrace and walked backwards to the bed, watching with a heated gaze as Strike quickly discarded his own clothes. She lay back against her pillows as he approached her, and he noted that her nervousness seemed to have returned. He slowly crawled up the bed, hovering over her, reverently kissing his way up her leg, over her hip, through the valley between her breasts, and finally up to her lips. He pulled back to look in her eyes, hoping his kisses had helped her relax, but if anything, she seemed even more nervous than before.

He never tried to treat her differently due to her attack at uni, but he had also never been more aware of her past than he was at this moment. His every thought was on that horrific time in her life, wondering if that’s where her mind was at as well. He wondered what position would be best. Was she uncomfortable because he was on top of her? Is that what had happened before? To Strike’s dismay, he realized that he was rapidly losing his erection. 

“Alright?” he asked, not sure that he wanted to hear the answer. When she nodded quickly, her eyes wide, he wasn’t certain she had given him the truth. 

_Go back to what was working,_ he told himself. He shifted to the side so he was no longer on top of her and kissed along the curve of her shoulder. He felt her relax as she arched into him, swinging a leg over his thigh. He slid his hand over the smooth skin at the back of her leg and hitched it up over his hip.

Strike kissed his way down her chest, pausing at the swell of her creamy breast. He cupped each in his hands, and looked up into her eyes. He could tell she was still nervous, but there was a hunger there as well. She threaded her fingers into his dense curls, and his eyes fluttered closed against the feeling of her nails against his scalp. Looking up into her eyes again, his tongue darted out to tease the creamy skin spilling over the black lace. Her face showed curiosity and anticipation as he wedged his tongue under the seam of the lace, inching closer to the hardened bud beneath.

His fingers crept to the edge of the lace and pulled it down to reveal her pale pink nipples. He fastened his mouth over one of the peaks, and felt himself growing hard once more. He gently sucked, flicking the bud with his tongue. Robin didn’t moan, or whimper, or arch into him, or give any reaction at all. He pinched her nipple with his lips, and the only reaction he received was a slight scrunching of her nose. _Perhaps nipples aren’t her thing,_ he thought, determined to find out what did do it for her. 

“Sorry,” he muttered and he continued kissing down her abdomen to her navel. He slowly peeled her knickers down, kissing her hips and the crease of her thigh. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and he thought he must be on the right track. Strike tossed the knickers to the side and dropped his head towards the small thatch of red-gold curls. His tongue flicked out at her luscious pink folds, preparing to settle into a delicious meal, but Robin bent her knees and pulled at his shoulders. _So this isn’t her thing either._

“Sorry,” he murmured again. She didn’t respond, but he took the hint and kissed back up her abdomen to her neck, slightly disappointed at not getting to show off his best skill. 

Robin wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to let him know she was ready for him. Strike sat up to get a condom from his wallet, pull off his boxers, and take off his prosthesis. He tossed the condom on the bed so that it was within reach, though he wasn’t ready to give up on foreplay just yet. Robin tossed her bra to the side and lay back on her pillows, anxiously waiting for him. 

Strike moved back over her, looking into her eyes for some sign of uncertainty. He tried and failed to interpret her expression; her eyes were heated, but there was fear there as well.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Robin nodded, “Yes. I want you, Cormoran. I’ve wanted you for some time now.”

She leaned forward and Strike captured her lips tenderly, lovingly. Robin hooked her legs higher over his hips and clutched at his shoulders, trying to draw him closer to her. He snaked an arm around her, his hand cupping under her arse. His fingers inched closer to her core, moving deliberately slowly in case she wanted to stop him, but she moaned into his mouth when his fingers grazed her folds.

“God, you’re so wet.”

Robin moaned again, unsure of how to respond. Any words that occurred to her sounded foolish in her mind, so she simply tightened her legs around him. Strike reached between them to rub his now painfully rigid cock against her clit.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to eat you out?” he asked in her ear. Then he added teasingly, “I’m pretty sure you’ll like it. I’ve never had any complaints.”

Robin’s nerves were amplified several notches as she was reminded how experienced he was, and how much experience she lacked. Images of gorgeous women - one in particular - flashed through her mind, easily coming apart beneath his self-proclaimed expert tongue, knowing that she could never possibly give him that same satisfaction. Other images bubbled to the surface of her mind, unbidden - Matthew, licking wetly and sloppily at her core; Matthew, getting frustrated when she didn’t come; Matthew, saying, “I thought women were supposed to like that.” 

A new image formed in her mind, of Cormoran’s head between her legs, Cormoran frustrated and disappointed that she hadn’t come for him yet, his jaw getting tired, giving up. In a sudden panic, she exclaimed, “No! I just want you.”

Strike heard the alarm in her voice and feared that he had once again misstepped. He rolled to the side and reached down to stroke her clit. This earned him a tiny mewl so quiet he almost missed it. He circled the nub, concentrating on her reaction. Her fingers tightened on his neck, silently pleading for him to kiss her. He pressed his lips lightly against hers, and she gasped as she opened to him, her tongue desperately seeking his. He pressed his lips against her more firmly, hungrily, as he continued to circle her clit. He eased a finger down through her silken folds, slipping into her entrance.

“You are so fucking tight,” he groaned, gently hooking his finger within her as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

Robin was glad her lips were occupied, as she yet again had no idea how to respond. Strike was slowly grinding against her leg, his thick cock sliding up and down her thigh. She felt guilty for neglecting him while he lavished his attention on her, so she reached for his length, but her fingers were just barely able to graze the head. 

She pulled away from his lips to murmur, “I’m ready for you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You seem to be enjoying this,” he husked as his finger beckoned inside her, his palm pushing against her clit.

“I want you, Cormoran.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he felt a rush of affection for her. 

Strike doubted she could possibly be close to orgasm with so little foreplay, but figured that she knew her own body better than he could. Resolved to give her whatever she wanted, he sat back on his knees to rip open the condom and roll it down over his length. He nestled himself back between her thighs, and looked into her eyes as he positioned himself at her entrance. He slowly pushed into her, watching closely for her reaction. Robin’s eyes fluttered closed and her mouth fell open, which he took as a good sign. She let out a small grunt as he thrust into her again, eyes still clenched tight.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Mm-hm. It’s just been a while.”

“For me too. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked when she scrunched her nose again in something resembling a grimace. “Sorry, I had a feeling you weren’t - “

“I’m fine,” she interrupted. “You feel really good. You’re just a bit bigger than I’m used to.”

Strike’s cock twitched with pride, but also concern for her. “Sorry, I’ll go slow,” he whispered.

He started easing in and out of her, watching her face for signs of discomfort. “You feel incredible,” he murmured in her ear as he thrust into her again, and again. She answered him with a quiet moan. 

He slowly built up a rhythm, varying his speed and his angle, searching for just the right spot. Robin’s expression didn’t change much, save for opening and closing her eyes or her mouth. She emitted small sounds that most certainly were not the sounds of a woman losing control. He tried deeper strokes, then more shallow, but still she didn’t seem any closer to the peak. His own control, however, was waning; he was becoming increasingly afraid of leaving her wanting, as he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Strike rolled over, pulling her on top of him, and letting her take the reins. Robin leaned back, resting her hands on his thighs, and sank down over his length. Strike gripped her hip with one hand, and reached between them to rub her clit with the other. She made a small sound of appreciation and Strike bit his lip, trying to hold back the tide of pleasure that was rapidly sweeping through him.

He was close, too close. The sight of Robin’s breasts swinging above him, moving with every thrust, was almost his undoing, and he had to still his hips and close his eyes. He could tell Robin was still nowhere close.

“Tell me how you want it,” he grunted.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked.

“What position do you like?”

“Oh, erm, with you on top of me I guess.”

In a swift movement, Strike rolled Robin onto her back. He was a little too rough in his impassioned frenzy, and Robin’s head bounced awkwardly against the mattress and rebounded into his forehead.

“Ow, sorry. You alright?”

“Fine,” Robin murmured, wishing she could be more graceful.

Strike propped himself up on his elbows and easily slipped back inside her.

“That good?” he grunted as he ground his pelvis against hers.

“Very good,” Robin nodded. 

She wrapped her arms around his large shoulders, rubbing her hands over the muscles in his back. Her nails scraped against the skin of his neck and up into his scalp. She whispered his name and Strike’s remaining control snapped like a twig. 

“I’m sorry,” he grunted as he pounded into her once, twice, three times and then stilled, his orgasm pulsing through him. “Sorry,” he mumbled again.

“For fuck’s sake, what are you sorry for this time?” she laughed, mildly irritated and embarrassed that he kept apologizing.

Strike rolled off of her and onto his back, pulled off the condom, knotted it, and dropped it by the side of the bed. He turned towards her, propping himself up on one elbow, his other arm resting across her abdomen.

“You didn’t get to come,” he said, slightly breathless.

Robin shrugged. “That’s ok, I don’t have to.”

“I was giving you my best moves, but you’re just too damn sexy. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. Sorry,” he chuckled. “Here, let me finger you some more. Or I’d love to eat you out.”

“No, really, it’s alright, you don’t have to do that. I enjoyed myself just fine.”

“But I’m not in the habit of leaving a lady wanting. I’d love to taste you,” he breathed in her ear, his fingers teasing at her clit once more. “I want to lick your cunt until your legs start to shake.”

The panic started to creep in again as she realized that he wasn’t about to give up. The pressure not to disappoint him was mounting anew. Robin could just imagine what he would think if he tried and failed - as he surely would - to bring her to orgasm.

“I said I’m fine, okay? Really. I usually don’t anyway.”

“You don’t usually come? From oral, or at all?” he asked, astonished.

Robin’s embarrassment was coming back with a vengeance, her feeling of inadequacy growing exponentially. “Both. I just don’t get off that easily, so you really don’t have to do all that. You’d probably be working at it for a while.” She hoped her tone sounded as flippant as she had intended.

“You don’t get off easily, huh? We’ll see about that,” he growled playfully and leaned forward to nip at her neck.

He scooted down the bed to position himself between her thighs again. By the time Robin realized what he was doing, his mouth had already fastened over her clit. She pushed at his head, trying to force his mouth away from her.

“No, Cormoran, don’t! I said I’m done!”

He looked up at her, his brows constricting, and didn’t quite manage to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Alright, I’m sorry, I only wanted to make you feel good. I’m just trying to learn what you like. Of course I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do. Didn’t you once accuse me of not talking to you when I should have? So talk to me, tell me why don’t you want me to pleasure you.”

“Because I just don’t want you to, alright? And stop fucking apologizing!” she exclaimed, and scrambled out of bed, scurrying down the hallway to the bathroom, completely mortified at how the evening had turned. 

Strike watched her hurry away, completely bewildered. He sat up slowly, listening for any sign that she was coming back or, he feared, crying. He pulled on his boxers and, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, reattached his prosthesis. 

He listened quietly at the door of the bathroom for a moment, then knocked softly. “Robin? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she called thickly, and Strike was certain that she had in fact been crying. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Have I done something wrong?” he called through the door. “I’ll go if you want me to.” He felt absolutely miserable, afraid that he had somehow hurt her or pressured her, and wishing that he had just let it go when she had asked him to. But he built up this night so high in his mind, and had then been embarrassed by his performance. He knew Robin didn’t have that much experience, and though he had no evidence on which to base his theory, he had always imagined that Matthew wasn’t a very satisfactory lover. He had been so excited to show Robin what he assumed she had been missing, but now he feared he may have crossed some invisible boundary. Considering how quickly she had fled his arms, he knew he had royally fucked up somehow.

Suddenly the door swung open and Robin stood before him, tear tracks streaking her cheeks. Strike’s heart shattered into a million pieces, and he reached for her, pulling her into his arms.

“Fuck, Robin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s me, all me.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked hesitantly, and new tears leaked from her eyes.

“No! Please don’t go. I’m sorry, I’ve ruined everything.”

“Sweetheart, you haven’t ruined anything. Talk to me, tell me what's wrong. What did I do?”

“It’s just… I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

Strike started to laugh, but stopped himself, certain that wouldn’t help matters. “How could I possibly be disappointed? You’re incredible, and intelligent, and gorgeous, and sexy. I was just trying to make sure _you_ weren’t disappointed. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was pressuring you, or - “

“No, you didn’t,” she added quickly. “I overreacted.”

“I only wanted to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” Strike murmured, brushing a thumb over the wetness on her cheek. “Is that so wrong?”

“No, I’m sorry. Ugh, this is so buggered. It’s just that you seemed to really want to do... _that_...and I’ve never gotten off that way. And then - this is so stupid - I was afraid of what you would think if you tried it and I didn’t...you know.”

A chuckle rumbled through Strike’s chest as he crushed Robin against him and buried his nose in her hair. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he muttered, and she nodded against him, her cheek scraping along the stubble on his jaw.

“When you say you’ve never gotten off like that, is it because you don’t like it, or because you haven’t tried it? Or is it because he wasn’t very good at it?” Strike added the last question for good measure, taking the opportunity to work in a jab at the twat he was now convinced must have been a very selfish lover indeed.

“Honestly?”

He nodded.

“Well, I, erm, don’t really have much experience with it. Matthew only did it a few times, and I was always distracted by how wet and slobbery it felt. And then when I didn’t finish, he said something to the effect of, ‘I thought women were supposed to like that.’ I thought of all the women you’ve been with, and all I could think was that if I didn’t enjoy it, you’d think there’s something wrong with me.“

“Christ, what a wanker. Robin, I don’t compare you to other women. I know I’ve had my fair share, but everyone’s different. I enjoy what makes you, you. I would love to taste you, but I’ll be happy with whatever makes you happy.”

Robin tightened her arms around his solid bulk and nuzzled her cheek into his chest. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t enjoy myself, because I did. Was it good for you?”

Strike laughed, “Fuck’s sake, Robin. Stop worrying about me. I’ll get off no matter what, but I’m not going to just fuck you. Believe me, I’ll like whatever you like. I _want_ to make you come. I want to see your skin flush, and I want to hear you moan. That would be so fucking hot. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, whatever makes you feel good. We can try some different things, and if you don’t like it, we’ll try something else. Most women that I’ve been with don’t get off from just sex. That’s why I wanted to pleasure you.”

Robin smiled up at him and stretched up on her toes, inclining her head. He captured her mouth in a tender, adoring kiss, lips moving slowly, languidly. 

“And for the record,” Strike added, pulling back with one eyebrow cocked smugly, “he must not have been doing it right. I’d love to give it another go, if you want me to.”

“Next time?”

“Next time,” Strike agreed. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Strike settled himself against her pillows after removing his prosthesis once more. Robin tucked herself against his side, resting her head against the soft hair on his chest. 

“So what do you like? So I’ll know for next time,” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“What gets you off?”

“Oh, I can really only do it by myself,” Robin said with a blush. 

Strike experienced another rush of loathing for the man that in ten years hadn’t figured out how to pleasure his woman.

“Have you ever tried a vibrator?”

“No, I suggested it one time, but Matthew didn’t like that idea. He didn’t see why I would need one, unless I was trying to replace him.” She chuckled, but it was a flat, humorless sound.

“Jesus, he really is a wanker. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t say stuff like that, but he is. A lot of women can’t get off without a vibrator. It’s really not that unusual. Only an arsehole would be threatened by a battery-operated toy.”

Robin smiled against his chest. She didn’t know if he was just trying to spare her feelings or if he was right, that many women did need a vibrator to enjoy sex, but it was making her feel less self-conscious all the same. 

“Would you like to try one?” he asked.

“Yeah, maybe. I do kind of wonder what it would feel like,” Robin said around a yawn.

“We can look for one later. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Later,” Robin agreed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, love.”

***

It was a few days before they were able to spend the night together again, due to a busy surveillance schedule. But Strike had rearranged the rota to make sure they had a night off together. They hadn’t seen much of each other since their slightly disappointing first night together, and he was itching to try again. He made his way to Robin’s flat, his anticipation mounting with every step, and a small bag swinging from his hand.

Max was staying with his boyfriend again, as he did most nights now. Robin answered the door and threw her arms around Strike’s neck, knocking him back a step with her enthusiasm. He kissed her hungrily, guiding her backwards to her bedroom. Their days apart had been like trudging through a desolate desert, leaving behind a desperate thirst that only soft and hairy skin could quench. There was no time for talking, no time for easing forward. They left a trail of clothes all the way down the hall to her bedroom, the little bag still swinging from Strike’s hand.

“I got you something,” he murmured against her lips and held up the bag.

Robin took it from him and looked inside. She pulled out a small, purple bullet vibrator.

“If you want. Don’t feel like you have to try it,” he said.

“No, I want to.” He could hear that she was genuinely intrigued, and his already rigid cock twitched with anticipation.

Strike growled playfully and lifted Robin up into his arms, pulling her legs up over his hips, and carried her to the bed. He laid her gently against the mattress and kissed her lovingly.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself,” he said, his voice husky. “Tell me if you don’t like it and we’ll do something different.” Robin nodded in acknowledgement. 

Strike nestled himself between her legs and kissed up the inside of one thigh. His lips tickled against her skin, a subtle scratch of stubble causing her to melt inside. She did what he asked, and allowed herself to relax against his touch. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensation of his skin against hers, the heat of his mouth. He reached the golden thatch of curls, and this time she didn’t push him away. Strike looked up into her eyes as he slowly lowered his mouth to her mound. He watched her reaction as his tongue flicked out to lick lightly at her clit. His mouth was warm and wet, but not distractingly so. A small moan escaped her lips as she relaxed into him further, her knees dropping open wide, her hips twitching when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Strike pressed against her more firmly, his tongue swirling, lips pinching, occasionally sucking. 

Robin’s fingers knotted in his hair, her moans becoming louder and wilder. He slipped a finger into her heat, hooking it up into that perfect spot he hoped would drive her wild. Her hips started undulating, seeking more friction. He pressed his tongue against her more firmly, easily staying with her. Robin was surprised to feel herself approaching that delicious crest. His mouth was working against her clit in just the right way, and there was a delicious pressure building inside her from his fingers. He wasn’t pumping his fingers in and out the way Matthew used to; in fact, it almost seemed like his fingers weren’t even moving. The pleasure spreading through her core was new and different, but not all together unfamiliar. She knew where it would lead her, so she gave herself over to the sensations, his mouth and his fingers drawing her right to the edge of oblivion. Before she knew it, she was tumbling over the precipice, her head thrown back, crying out in pleasure.

Her fingers loosened in his hair, and she twitched beneath him as his tongue flicked out one last time. 

“How was that?” he asked, his voice smug.

Robin laughed, “Bloody amazing.”

“You want to try the vibrator?” he asked as he wiped his mouth on her leg.

Robin looked down and saw that he was picking a hair off his tongue. She was surprised and relieved that this didn’t embarrass her. 

“I already came once, not sure I can do it again,” she giggled.

“Well you never know until you try,” he said, digging the small vibrator out of the package.

He switched it on to the lowest setting and eased it down against Robin’s clit. 

“Oh, oooooooh. That feels really good,” she chuckled. 

“Here, take this, and flip over.” He handed her the vibrator and lightly patted her hip.

Robin rolled over, and Strike pulled her hips up so she was on her hands and knees. After quickly sheathing himself with a condom, he took the vibrator back from her and reached his hand around to her front to hold it against her clit.

“How’s that? Good?”

“Mmm, yes,” Robin moaned.

Strike eased his length inside her and Robin moaned louder. He pushed his full length into her, until his pubic bone was flush against her arse. Robin pushed back into him eagerly, so he thrust into her again, and again, and again, gradually picking up speed. Robin’s arms were starting to shake and he could tell that she was completely lost in pleasure. 

“Does that feel good?” he grunted.

Robin managed a sound that may have been “uh-huh”, but it sounded more like a whimpering moan. Strike grasped her hip with his other hand and drove into her harder, his attention divided between trying to hold the vibrator in place and trying to hit just the right spot within her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, her cries becoming higher-pitched. She cried out on a particularly strong thrust, and her arms nearly gave out beneath her. Strike wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her as he continued to drive into her. 

“Yes, fughgd!” she screamed, her words becoming gargled nonsense as she shattered around him. 

The sight of Robin coming apart against him caused the dam to break on his pleasure, and his own orgasm surged forth on a guttural grunt. He collapsed against her, lavishing kisses across her shoulder and down her spine.

“I take it you liked it,” he panted.

Robin flopped against the mattress and rolled over beneath him, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

“Very, _very_ much. Thank you.”

Strike chuckled, “It was my pleasure.”

“No, I believe the pleasure was all mine,” Robin laughed breathlessly.

Strike nuzzled into her neck, sweetly and tenderly. “I loved watching you come on my cock like that. That was unbelievably hot.” 

“No, really, thank you, Cormoran. For being so understanding, and caring, and gentle.”

“I wasn’t _that_ gentle,” he laughed, even as his thumb swept tenderly across her cheek, his fingers tracing down her neck, pushing her hair back from her face.

“You know what I mean. I never knew it could be like that. That was the best orgasm of my life,” she giggled.

“So far,” Strike teased.

“So far,” Robin agreed.


End file.
